Tales of Skyrim: Grohiik the Wanderer
by NOVA47
Summary: Grohiik was about to cross into Skyrim, but he was ambushed and taken prisoner by the Imperial ambush. Rated M for descriptive gore, violence as of now. Lydia is coming next chapter!
1. Carriage to Sovngarde

Tales of Skyrim: Grohiik the Wanderer

Chapter 1: Carriage to Sovengarde

My head was throbbing violently and the rest of my body uttered complaints as well. When I tried to put my hands to my head, I found they were bound. _'Oh great'_ I thought _'I've been captured by, Imperials, was it? Well, I suppose it doesn't matter I can always explain the situation and just be on my way once they release me.' _I found my eyelids surprisingly heavy and stuck together, after a few tries I got them open and shook my head to clear the fog from my vision. Now that I had my sight back I observed my surroundings, I was in a single-horse-drawn carriage, with three other men, excluding the Imperial-armor-wearing driver. I looked around at the scenery of the mountain pass we were moving through, a few scattered and snow-covered trees, and several shrub-like plants in between.

After another minute of the slow-paced travel, the pass opened up, at least to the right it did, to the left was what I assumed was a cliff, until an Elk disappeared over the crest. To the right was a forest of white pines, or I believed them to be pines, I had no Idea what the local Nords called anything in their "homeland." Speaking of Nords, the other three men in the carriage look like Nords, if that was so, I will likely have a lot of explaining to do.

I felt a headache coming on, and I could tell I was not going to enjoy it, so I needed to get all the information I could, while I could still remember it. Unfortunately when I attempted to speak, I was only able to get out a muffled grunt, which alerted the others to my consciousness. "Hey, you're finally awake, huh?" asked the man across from me, he had a sandy-blonde color hair, and a rather plain face with a shallow goatee and beard.

I mumbled a muffled reply, thinking '_Well obviously_.' "You were trying to cross the border right?" again with him and asking questions of a man who had a cloth wrapped tightly around his mouth, "Walked into the Imperial ambush just like us."

The images of the fight from that night flashed into my head, I had recently passed by a platoon of troops heading northward, on the road to Skyrim. A short ways later I was ambushed by soldiers I could not identify, they quickly brought down the horse I had just bought, which fell over and pinned my leg to the ground. Being unable to move, the ambushers were sure I was no longer a threat, and they retreated back into the nearby foliage, waiting for 'my platoon' as apparently they thought I was a scout. After a few minutes of struggling, the platoon appeared and they came to a dead halt confused as to why my horse had suddenly died. Unfortunately for them, they could not see the arrows in its side and neck, because of the pure darkness the overcast night produced.

The following ambush was sudden and violent; the prey began to drop like flies before they even knew what was happening. After the first barrage, I was able to free my leg and quickly grab necessary supplies. The soldiers in the platoon that could still stand pulled their shield and formed a defensive barrier around a figure on horseback, who dismounted his horse in time to avoid being impaled by several arrows. In the following confusion of the melee ambush I attempted to flee, an act in which I would have succeeded in, were it not for one of the idiots being ambushed who yelled "HEY MILK-DRINKER! GET BACK HERE AND FIGHT LIKE A REAL NORD!"

At that moment several of the foot soldiers tackled me, and bound my hands and feet, to which I responded by biting the closest piece of I could find. The owner of said flesh was infuriated by this so he knocked me out by slamming the hilt of his sword on my head, after which, I blacked out. I awoke to the sound of several horses walking over stone.

One of the other men looked to the sandy-haired man and spat out "Curse you Stormcloaks, Empire was nice and lazy before you came along. If it wasn't for you I'd be halfway to Hammerfell by now." _'Yeah, right,'_ I thought, _'If it weren't for them you'd be dead for trying to steal an Imperial army horse.'_ The man was small in stature, obviously not very strong, and had dark brown hair. Paying no attention to the continuing argue between the two, I looked to the man sitting next to me, he wore fancy clothes, unlike everyone else, and I had a sense that he was the primary reason for the ambush. I suddenly got an awful feeling in the pit of my stomach, and my fear was confirmed when the sandy-haired man said that the fancy man was Ulfric Stormcloak, leader of the "Skyrim Uprising" as it was being called by people elsewhere in Tamriel.

I had a feeling that we were not going to be merely locked up in some prison, but we were getting into something a lot less escapable. I ignored the rest of the comments by the others, and only focused on how to escape in the usual time of being trapped in a cell before execution. When the gates to the small upcoming town opened, I realized that this town would be unable to hold this many prisoners at once. My stomach seemed to reach a new low when I saw a parent tell his child to come back inside, and I realized that there would be no waiting for the headsman's axe.

Upon stopping we were told to exit the carriage, and we were told our sentence, a few higher ranking men were going to be interrogated before they were executed. This group did not include the infamous Ulfric, who was to be taken to Solitude and executed, to gain revenge for his killing of the High King. Then the horse-thief tried to run, which only gave him a few arrows to the back. When the attention of the man with the list of names was on me, he paused looked at his sheet again, and looked over to his superior. "He's not on the list, should we let him go?" Somehow, I doubted that would be allowed. "No, forget the list, he goes to the block." Why am I always right?

My headache finally set in as the General began to yell at Ulfric, don't know why he bothered people either wanted him dead or free, nobody here cared about speeches. As the ache slowly started to build up as I heard the axe come down on a fool who apparently could not wait to die. I was next up for getting my neck severed in half, which I can honestly say, I wasn't looking forward to. I slowly walked up to stand in front of the block, I was planning to just stand there, but with a kick to the back of my knees, and a foot placed on my back to hold me down… I was in no position to do so. I tilted my head up to try to stare down the man holding a massive axe over my head, which was not likely to get any results, but still, it was the best I could think of with my headache. As the headsman lined up his axe and lifted it up, I closed my eyes to prevent seeing the inevitable.

Moments later I heard a distant roar and a sudden shake as if the ground was moving beneath me. I dared to open my eyes and replacing the headsman was a very large scaled head. After the mouth opened I felt my body being thrown like it was nothing but a small rock. As I landed on the ground I felt my head hit and the world around me completely faded away.


	2. Adrenaline Rush

Tales of Skyrim: Grohiik the Wanderer

Chapter 2: Adrenaline Rush

With my vision clouded and my hearing muffled, I felt as if I were once again underwater in Blackmarsh. I stood to my feet with great effort, had my eyes not told me otherwise, I would have thought a mammoth was sitting on me. Once my head cleared, I could hear and see the wounded, explosions and rubble. The screams of the dying and the roar of the scaled beast were continuously infuriating the still-growing headache, and I had a feeling that it would continue to get worse. I quickly observed my surroundings, taking note that I was in a building, and the ground shook once in a while. The building itself was not in good shape, it was likely to collapse in on itself, if it took much more damage. Standing up I decided the best way to go was up, because the other men were talking about flaming rocks falling from the sky, and outside didn't sound too well. This left me to hope for a way up the mountain from the top of the tower.

Suddenly a hand grabbed my shoulder and a voice yelled that I should indeed head up the stairs, so I ran up at a moderate pace. Upon reaching the second floor I felt the tower violently shake, and in an instant the wall near me was pulverized by the giant head. A stormcloack who had survived the wave of rock got only a moment extra to live as a fire came from the scaled mouth and devoured him. I shielded my face from the immense heat that made even the deserts of Elsweyr seem cold. Several moments passed and finally the beast pulled back and flew off to make someone else a torch.

The rubble from the blast obscured the second flight of stairs leaving me with only one, very insane, option. Approximately fifteen feet away was presumably an inn, which now had a gaping hole in the roof, had the distance not been enough of a challenge, the hole was ringed in fire that was quickly spreading along the straw-thatch roof and dry timber walls. I backed up, and prepared for a long and exhausting adrenaline rush run through the burning nightmare of this once beautiful town. With a speed that could rival even the winds themselves, I sprinted out of the tower and vaulted through the air as far as I possibly could with my current condition. I landed on my feet and launched in a forward roll to keep as much momentum as I possibly could, and to prevent my legs from snapping like twigs from the impact.

Continuing with my full sprint, I flew through the deteriorating second floor, and jumped down to the first once again using a roll to continue moving. Outside the inn, I took no time to observe anything but the path of exit, except for the two men standing behind a smoldering ruin, while they yelled for a child to join them and leave his father. I passed by the child the moment the beast landed in front of his father, and in a split second I decided that I would save who I could, for none of the townsfolk deserved a death by fire. I jumped onto the dragons head and grabbed its horn and with all my might, jerked the head away from pointing at the man who scrambled away, while losing considerable amounts of blood from his side.

With a rage, the beast spread its wings and launched itself into the air, with me still riding it I might add. I felt helpless, stuck high in the air on a monstrosity that could breathe fire, with flaming rocks falling from the sky and destroying whatever they landed on. I could feel the end of my rush approaching so I began to attempt to force the dragon to land again, so I could dismount it and run. Fortunately for me, the beast's eyes were vulnerable, unlike the rest of its body, crying out in pain and an ever increasing rage, the abomination began to shake its head to try and throw me off, but I had enough strength left to grip the horns and steady myself. Seemingly forgetting that it was a few hundred feet off the ground, the creature attempted to use its wings to get me off. The wind whistled past my ears and I was slowly lifted off the behemoth, and I was only able to keep my hands on the horns, the rest of my body seemingly floating during our short lived free-fall. Seconds before the inevitable impact the best's wings spread out, causing our angle of descent to decrease, but not stopping the upcoming landing. Crashing into the central tower, the monster that had carried me came to a dead stop, while I continued forward and landed in a deep snow bank, by the Nine, was that lucky.

I found myself having to roll very awkwardly to get out of the snow, and I suddenly felt the cold of Skrim in full, because my adrenaline was as this as a single hair, and would soon break. Stumbling forward I approached the barracks entrance to the barracks, and heard the sandy-haired stormcloack and the list-man arguing about who I should follow. I turned to face them and yelled "BOTH OF YOU JUST FOLLOW ME AND SHUT UP!" If that wasn't enough of a clue for them to stop bickering, I'll just leave them later. Charging forward and bashing down the door, I entered the fort barracks and ran up to a chest next to a single bed, which I assumed was owned by the, most likely late, warden. I pulled out the key and stuffed it in a small coin purse that I could tie to the belt-like rope around my waist. The two men finally came running in, with the doorway exploding behind them… this demon was tough, I'll give it that.

I turned around and instructed the other two to attack only if we were attacked, and just as fast, turned back and opened the door to the inner sections of the fort. Running down the hall, I finally came to the end of my rope of adrenaline. I nearly fell over and fainted from the exhaustion and excitement. I paused for a moment to catch my severely shortened breath, then stood and fought to continue.

Through the next door we found a few dead stormcloack and metal-cage door that opened when I used the Warden's key. We descended down into the lower areas of the fort, and after coming up on a kitchen and food storage, the ceiling collapsed, forcing us into the kitchen. Inside were two desperate imperial soldiers who turned at us when they heard the door. The larger of the two yelled "I'm going to kill you prisoners and you traitor!" He pulled a large war hammer off his back and gripped it tightly, while his friend picked up a great sword that was lying next to him.

The first man charged before my two companions could even get their swords out, good, all the more fight for me. The hammer-wielding man swung downwards, expecting to bash my head in, but all he smashed was one of the stones that made the floor. In an instant I grabbed his head and rapidly turned it sideways, resulting in a loud, satisfying crack. The second imperial ran forward and sliced his sword towards my midsection, but I leaned back before it hit me and as I stood up, I grabbed a dagger from his leg. The man had not been prepared for my speed, and his entire upper body was turned to the side, and his sword was stuck in the wooden post to his left. I used his own dagger and stabbed through his neck, killing him before he could react.

I wasted no time in continuing forward, because this place could completely cave-in at any time. Down a small staircase, and through a less carved tunnel, was a large room with multiple stormcloacks and imperials fighting, honestly if all Nords in Skyrim were this dense, Skyrim was doomed. The only fighting was now on top of a large puddle of a very flammable fluid, and I just happened to know a fire spell or two… After descending into the cave beneath the fort, our little mix-match group stumbled upon a nest of some very large spiders, allow the others to fight the beasts with steel, I stayed back, no way was I getting close to those freaks.

Another few minutes of following the underground stream, and we stumbled upon a sleeping bear, opting to just walk past instead of bothering with it, after all, I could feel a crash approaching, so I needed to make my way to a town. Walking out of the cave I smelled the air; it was cool, crisp and smelled of the plant life the spread out to the horizon. Suddenly pulled from the sprawling and surprising beauty, I looked to the sky to see the great winged figure flying over the mountains and off into the distance. "Was that really a dragon, the harbingers of the end times?" The imperial asked as if we knew the answer. I talked normal for the first time in all this, "Your guess is as good as mine." The other two seemed content with this, and I was glad because I was about to faint.


	3. Whiterun Hospitality

Tales of Skyrim: Grohiik the Wanderer

Chapter 3: Whiterun Hospitality

Crashing was awful, there were few things that felt worse than a full crash, and most of those scenarios involved weapons. I felt awful, absolutely, terribly awful, actually awful didn't even begin to describe the misery I was feeling. I heard voices, but they were distant, murky and confused, I could not understand why I was hearing voices though. I passed out right after exiting the cave section of the fort, so there is no reason for me to hear voices.

Attempting to sit up proved to be a horrible mistake, the pain in my abdomen increase massively, and I was barely able to let the voices know of my pain before the pain set in fully. Every muscle began to gripe in reply to even the slightest movement, rendering me unable to move until I was well rested. After I fell back down, I heard the voices getting closer then stop. My aches slowly began to ebb away, and my strength was being restored, and the light, high-pitched sound of healing magic calmed me enough to allow me to fall into a deep, restoring sleep.

I awoke feeling rested and restored; opening my eyes was a great effort, as they were sealed shut. Light blinded me the moment they separated, and I struggled to blink away the light. After my vision was clear I sat up and looked around, I was on a small rock bench, one of many, and there were several miserable-looking people all being attended by healers robed in orange and brown cloths. Looking down at myself I could see that I no longer had the ragged clothes the imperials had given because they took my armor, but I now had a simple green shirt, rough brown pants, and some leather-like boots.

A gentle feminine voice came from behind, "Are you feeling well sir?" I turned to face a middle- aged woman wearing the same robes as the other healers. "Yes, I am feeling much better, thanks to you I assume?" I questioned her, my voice rough from the amount of time that I was out. "Your assumption would be correct, yes. I am Danica Pure-Spring, a priestess of Kynareth, and a healer to the sick and wounded. Though your recovery was your own, all you needed was rest, but be wary, you may remain sore for some time." Her voice was kind, calm and soothing, like most priestess healers. "Though I am afraid that you may not have adequate time to rest, the Jarl and his court would like to question you for anything relating to the attack at Helgen."

I suddenly remembered why I shouldn't be in this temple. "Why, or rather, how, did I get here?" My voice betrayed my general curiosity by sounding concerned, not confused. Though priestess Danica did not pick up on my tone, "Hadvar and Ralof brought you here, they seemed fairly worried about your condition, but we were able to convince them you were fine. They also told the Jarl about the supposed 'Dragon' that attacked, but their stories were confused and confusing… Jarl Balgruuf was hoping you could clear up the story, as both men mentioned your heroics in the utmost respect." Danica quickly moved over to a soldier when he started moaning in pain. As her hands were enveloped in a wonderfully dazzling golden light, I took a moment to study the temple I was in. Light came in from the windows near the ceiling, and vines grew extensively underneath them. The temple had a feeling of openness to it, like instead of being surrounded by walls; they were out in the middle of a farming field in Cyrodiil. Simply standing here was refreshing, and I could have stayed a lot longer, but I could not.

I strode out of the building, only to be greeted by a dead tree. Surely this dead tree would not be a center piece of display, maybe it had only recently died, or the city was still looking for a replacement. Noting to ask later, I walked up to a guard across the courtyard to ask directions to Dragonsreach, home of the jarl.

"Could you direct me to Dragonsreach sir?" I asked, not knowing how proper to be, Skyrim wasn't a place I visited often, or at all really.

"Just take the steps over there until you find the giant doors in your path, _sir_." The guard said, pointing at the stairs past the tree, leading up to a large, ornate building. How I hadn't noticed that earlier, I don't know.

Swiftly moving around the tree and to the stairs, I began recalling all that I could from my encounter with the dragon. Blurry images came to mind, along with jumbled and distant voices, leaving me with only one clear memory, the feeling that seemed to flow from the dragon, one of terror and helplessness. Reaching the top of the stairs came much too fast, leaving me with a slight feeling of nervousness and stupidity, why could I not remember?

Opening the large wooden doors, I stood up a bight straighter and hid my emotions, most of those in power wanted soldiers to show no emotion, something that a practiced man could do easily. Without stopping in my tracks, I admired the great hall before me, tapestries and banners were hanging from two high balconies, which bordered a central feasting area that lay at the feet of a raised platform with a throne. A large fire burned in the center of the room, casting a warm, yet powerful glow all throughout the hall. Two tables sat on either side of the fire, and at them sat several people, who all seemed of great importance, whether they were proud warriors, or rich nobles. At the throne sat a man who looked like he had claimed the throne through strength, then slowly drifted into the snobby life of a noble-born. On the wall behind him, was a large skull, unlike anything I had ever seen before, It had two great horns, and several large, jagged teeth set in a jaw large enough to swallow a man whole.

I stopped just before the stairs and looked at the man who was obviously the jarl. With a bow I showed as much respect as possible without acting as a servant or worshipper. "You wish to speak with me jarl?" I said as I straightened back up.

The man shifted and sat up a bit straighter, removing the feeling that he was bored, and studied me a moment before replying. "Yes, you survived the attack at Helgen, and I need to know more about the threat the dragons pose to my hold and my people." The man's voice was filled with strength and authority, yet it had a tone that was reassuring.

My confidence, bolstered by the jarl, allowed me to clear my mind, and speak it. "The dragon that attacked Helgen was undoubtedly powerful, standing near it sent feelings of terror and weakness through my body, but it also had an air of divinity around it, I believe it was most likely a leader among the other dragons, when they existed, leading to the probability that other dragons, should they arise, would be weaker. As for the way it fought, it was… terrifying, to say the least. It fought with teeth, claws and its tail, but it also could breathe fire, and summon a storm of fire and rock, falling from the sky. It was massive, black, and other things that I cannot clearly recall." I closed my eyes and kept my emotions hidden, while letting what I said register.

Opening my eyes I saw the jarl, sitting still and staring at nothing in particular. Suddenly he spoke up "Why was it that Ralof and Hadvar, a Stormcloak and an Imperial brought you here? Not why they were cooperating with each other, but what were they doing in Helgen in the first place?"

"The Imperials had captured Ulfric Stormcloak, and were about to execute him when the dragon attacked, and I was caught and mistaken as one of them when I rode past the ambush." I was sure to include my innocence and abstinence of both sides of the war.

A guard came up from behind me and walked next to the jarl to tell him something, as soon as he finished he briskly walked back the way he came. The jarl took a moment to think, before turning to me, "Well friend, an unmanned wagon was found outside the city, being pulled by a horse in a frenzy. It's an Imperial wagon, from Helgen, and it is possible that your belongings are on it. Take a moment to check, and if they aren't yours, feel welcome to take a few things from the armory, because I want you to help me secure my hold against any dragons."

_A/N: Sorry this took so long, I've been caught up in school. But no more! I have got it all sorted out, and will be working on my stories as often as homework will allow. Next will be bleak falls, then we will get to meet Lydia! Until next time, and as always, have a nice day._


	4. The Barrow of Bleak Falls

Tales of Skyrim: Grohiik the Wanderer

Chapter 4: The Barrow of Bleak Falls

Wiping the blood of the bandits from his Akaviri katana, Draco, Grohiik studied the outer courtyard of Bleak Falls Barrow; it was crumbling, ancient, somber and nearly covered in snow. A blizzard was descending on the mountain-top, threatening to seal in the dead, though they obviously weren't going anywhere. The bandits that had taken up residence on the outside of the tomb had been inexperienced and clumsy; no match for the beauty of Grohiik's deadly fighting style, Blood-Sands, a fighting style named by a Khajiit who had claimed that the sands were painted red when Grohiik fought.

Wanting to get out of the freezing weather, Grohiik opened the large, rotten wooden doors that lead to the barrow, which replaced the freezing winds with a stale, putrid and ancient air that could kill on its own, without help from the traps left behind. Two bandits took immediate notice when the left door fell off its hinges and fell to the floor with a great thud. Taking cover behind a large moss and candle-alcove covered pillar, Grohiik drew Pheo and Draco, his Akaviri katana.

They were hand crafted by an Atmorian who used the shape of the swords of the Tsaesci, immortal snake-beings, and combined it with the strength of Atmorian blades, then they were sent to the Aldmer at the White-Gold tower for their designs, they then were enchanted with two spirits. Draco was a spirit of bloodshed and violence, while Pheo was a spirit of serenity and compassion, thus they countered each other and gave the wielder two new perspectives, which they could chose to follow or not.

The first bandit walked past the pillar and never noticed Grohiik until his head had already landed on the floor with a squishy thud. The decapitated body began to poor blood on the floor, painting it a bright red, contrasting with the weathered rock. Flying past him and bouncing off the wall was an arrow sent by the female bandit archer, whose aim was almost as bad as the smell of the tomb. Full-out sprinting at her, Grohiik dodged the second arrow with no effort, and stabbed her in the heart, the slit her throat to make her end much quicker. Flipping over the woman's body to reveal her un-stained back, Grohiik unceremoniously cleaned Draco and Pheo. '_**Well that was far too simple… *sigh* bandits just don't fight like they used to.'**_ Draco commented. '_Do you have to always think about killing? Maybe try something productive for a change.__'_ Pheo mumbled, in a way only a sword can. '_**Yes, actually, I do think about art sometimes, like how the greatest shade of red is that of blood pouring out of a man's chest cavity!' **_Draco challenged. Grohiik tuned out the rest of their argument as he sheathed them and moved to the back of the room, towards a crude fire amongst the rubble, and a set of stairs leading down farther into the ancient tomb.

The hallway at the base of the stairs was overgrown with root-like plants that hung from the ceiling, criss-crossed the floor, and coated the walls. On the far wall were two alcoves that each held their own burial preparation table, covered in various urns, wrappings, and preparation tools, and nestled between the alcoves was a large brazier that lit the dark hall. The path turned to the right and descended again, and continued to twist and turn for a long while, with only a few braziers to light the way, other than the dim candles that only gave one the illusion of light. After the path ended, Grohiik saw a bandit at the base of the stairs, he did not notice Grohiik, and walked up to a lever in the center of the room. Staying stealthy, Grohiik silently made his way to the entrance of the room and hid behind the edge of the door, watching the man carefully. Pulling the lever proved to be a terrible decision for the bandit, as he was impaled by several poisoned darts, sprouting from holes in the walls. Dilapidated and dangerous, the room was a simple test of wits, saying that anyone who couldn't figure this out was not worthy of the tomb.

Studying the room, three pillars caught Grohiik's eye; they each held carvings of a whale, snake and bird, and were the key to opening the door to the rest of the tomb. On the second floor were two similar carvings, with an empty spot in the middle, whose carving had fallen, face-up, on the first floor. In order from left to right they read: snake, snake, whale; and turning the pillars to that combination resulted in a slight click that told that the door could be opened without worrying about being killed by the trap. Pulling the ancient, rusted lever was more challenging than anticipated, but applying more force did the trick, and the grated gate rose out of the path, opening a dimly lit room with several alcoves and a few large pillars guarding the way to a wooden spiral staircase.

Halfway down the staircase, Grohiik encountered several very hungry skeevers that were desperate enough to try and make a meal out of him. A few swipes from Draco made quick work of the over-sized rodents, and then Grohiik was on his way again, descending the stairs into a room covered in spider webs. A single pedestal-bound brazier lit the room, barely enough to keep any lit in it at all. Descending the stairs, Grohiik accidentally kicked a small urn that clattered on the floor, shattering the silence of the tomb. A distant voice began calling out, though Grohiik could not hear it well enough to make sense of what it said, all that he heard knew was that it was frantic and nervous.

Another hallway greeted Grohiik at the bottom of the descent, and split off to the left into a room with several entrances to a large cavernous room, all of which were covered by spider webs or the root plants. Ahead of him showed even less promise, with a caved in roof and a skeleton that hand his hand stuck in a web, obviously trying to get to a chest that was coated in the same web, so turning back to the entrance to the cavernous room, Grohiik made a small fire spell in his hands and proceeded to burn through the fragile, yet strong web.

Stepping over the web, Grohiik strode into the cavernous room that was coated in many areas in a thick layer of web, including the floor. Across the room was a man tangled up in a web, furiously trying to wiggle free, to no avail, he would be stuck there until he got help. "Hey, you there… Help me down will you?" the man said, hushed. '_**I say we kill him for being in our way.**_' Draco voiced. '_Let's at least hear his story first; he could be our only way of getting through the rest of the tomb._' Pheo countered. A series of clicks drew Grohiik's attention to a large spider descending from a hole in the ceiling, wanting a meal.

Jumping back, Grohiik drew Draco and Pheo instantly, waiting for the giant arachnid to show a weakness in its defense. Charging the monster went after him in a crazed dash, leaving it vulnerable from behind or the air. Turning towards the wall, Grohiik used the sticky webbing to his advantage as he moved fast enough to run up the wall, until he could go no farther, then he jumped back, landing on the spider's back, stabbing down with both swords, killing it with a cruel efficiency. "Great, great… now can you let me down?" the trapped man asked, sounding annoyed.

"What are you doing here anyway?" Grohiik questioned.

"We, I mean me and the others, stole the claw from some half-witted merchant down in Riverwood, he didn't know what it was for, but I do, see it's the key to the puzzle door that leads to the main chamber!" the man said excitedly.

"You needed to steal it from the man, why not just ask him and tell him your intent?" Grohiik was still teetering on whether or not to kill him.

"Because if we told him, he would want some of the rewards, and I already planned to ditch the others and take it all for myself." Grohiik made up his mind.

Before the man could utter another deceitful word, there was a sword puncturing his heart, spreading blood like a fountain as Grohiik twisted it and jumped back, avoiding the spray. '_**I quite enjoyed that.**_' Draco said in all honesty, while Pheo remained silent. Cutting the web from around his body, Grohiik let the man fall with an inglorious flop, and then he took the Golden claw and secured it to his side. Stepping past the body Grohiik wandered into the untouched parts of the tomb.

Ancient relics were already more abundant in the next two rooms than all the previous rooms combined. Past these rooms were long hallways that had numerous alcoves lining the walls, each of which held a body of their own. The stench that had been strong at the entrance to the tomb was now staggering, intoxicating. '_**Can you smell that? ... Nothing smells quite as good as lots and lots o' death!'**_ Draco yelled in Grohiik's mind's ear. '_Yuck, it smells like a tavern of drunks, a million times over.'_ Pheo commented. "That's an interesting way to put that." Grohiik chuckled.

The sound of his slight laughter carried down into the tomb, and awakened a Draugr who didn't like anything alive or happy. Stumbling out of his not-so-eternal resting place, the Draugr drew his axe and gave a blood-curdling scream, one that awakened several nearby Draugr, and put those deeper down on alert for anything not dead. The scream finished, the Draugr charged in a wild frenzy towards Grohiik, who had drawn Draco and Pheo none too soon. It was sloppy, but deadly, the Draugr, and it gave no regard to its own safety only to the harm of its opponent.

A dodge and cut, the Draugr lost its right arm; weaponless, it howled in unholy anger and went berserk in rage, anything was a weapon, and nothing mattered but the death of the intruder. The other awakened undead were shifting in on the scrimmage before them, and Grohiik began fighting much more aggressively; stabbing the Draugr through the abdomen earned not death, but a punch in the face and the loss of Draco, who the Draugr then pulled out and used as a left-handed weapon. Two other Draugr joined the charge and tried to overwhelm the invader; the Draugr on the left quickly lost his head before he could swing his ancient, rusty great sword. Parrying Draco, wielded by the one-armed Draugr, Grohiik slid out of the block, and thrust Pheo through the armor and heart of the Draugr on the right, then quickly brought his sword up and through the head, splitting it in two. The Draugr who stole Draco shuffled forward, relentless even in the face of certain defeat; His head fell to the floor, helmet clattering against the stone. Picking up Draco, Grohiik turned and made his way to the far end of the room, where a very obvious, yet almost nature looking, trap awaited foolish and unobservant prey.

Stepping around the trap, Grohiik moved through a small, partially caved in hall and entered another burial room, with Draco and Pheo still drawn. A Draugr at the top of the stairs shifted his legs onto the floor and stiffly stood, only to have his head fall from its perch before he could draw a weapon; the head fell down the stairs, making a ruckus along the way, waking three Draugr from their slumber. Leaping down the stairs and landing in a roll, Grohiik severed the first Draugr in half before his eyes could find a target. Two more Draugr were stirring, one with a bow and one with a sword; disarming the sword from the undead warrior's hands, Grohiik moved him just enough for the archer's arrow to kill a friendly warrior. Pouncing on the archer and knocking him to the floor, Grohiik severed his neck like it was made of straw. '_**These fools don't bleed, and they insist on dying through not-so-extravagant methods, it's just no fun to kill them**_.'

…

After a restoring sleep, Grohiik was still stuck at the strange, circular puzzle; he could see where the Golden Claw would fit, but the combination bothered him, the way he had found it could have been correct, but there was no telling what would happen if the incorrect combination was tried. '_Perhaps the claw will give a clue?_' Pheo said questioningly. Grohiik sighed, but picked up the claw anyway, he was desperate for ideas; turning the claw over, Grohiik almost broke his head when he face-palmed 'The answer was right at my fingertips all along!' he scolded himself. Moving the rings into position and inserting the claw into the door… nothing, turning to the right… nothing, to the left; a force took control of the claw and snapped it into position, then the rings whirled to a new position, then the door began to sink into the ground; Grohiik quickly grabbed the claw, and tucked it away, waiting for the door to finish.

A large boom echoed as the door slid into place, the dust upset by its movement settling down once again. A staircase met him right behind what was once the door and it led up, not down. The room it had opened into was cavernous and cave-like. In the distance Grohiik could see a large platform with an interesting structure attached. Moving slowly and cautiously, Grohiik started towards the central structure, waiting for any traps to spring, or Draugr to awake. A swarm of bats flew from their ceiling perches, and tore off into another area of the large cavern, another minute of advancing, and another flurry of bats were unsettled by him. Being battered by bats was something that was hard to get used to, or to expect, so Grohiik was in more shock than pain after being slammed into by a number of the small, timid creatures.

Trudging on, Grohiik walked up the circular staircase that wrapped around the platform. At the top the platform held a few shelves with burial records, and a sarcophagus that undoubtedly held the leader, or at least an important figure of the dead of the tomb. Opposite this was a wall with what appeared scratch marks that formed writing, with ornate carvings above these marks. Approaching the wall out of curiosity, Grohiik reached out to touch two of the fascinating markings.

Instantaneously, the marks began to glow furiously, and the rest of the world became blurred, irrelevant. The lights began to dance and encircle him, seemingly trying to communicate with him. He began to feel what the word meant, began to feel the strength behind the word.

_**Force**_.

He could not understand what he was feeling, but he understood the carving-word. Force, he caught wisps of understanding within him, but could not grasp them, only vaguely knowing the strength of the word. The lights faded, and the carvings of the wall faded with them.

Booming behind him, the lid of the sarcophagus clamored on the ground, and a more armored Draugr cambering out. Draco and Pheo came out, and he adopted a defensive stance that could be easily manipulated into an offensive one. The Draugr was larger and wore armor that screamed '_important_'. The Draugr wasted no time in charging, wielding an axe that glowed a light blue with an ice enchantment. The Draugr was covered in unguarded sections, all of which could be devastating to his combat abilities, or lethal.

Mere feet in front of him, the Draugr took up a stance and pulled his head and upper body back, like a snake ready to strike. A shout soared from its mouth, if it still was a mouth, and ripped through the air commanding power that nearly knocked Grohiik off his feet. Stumbling to regain his balance, Grohiik was unprepared to defend himself when an axe implanted itself deep in his left arm. Pain shooting through his arm, he dropped Draco, for the second time in a single day.

Jerking the axe out, the Draugr pulled his arm back to swing again, but this time Pheo met his axe mid-air. Twisting the axe out of his opponent's hand, Grohiik ended the parry with a slice downward, slicing through the Draugr's right shoulder like butter. Falling to its knees, the Draugr opened his neck just enough to allow Grohiik to slice straight through it.

Sheathing Pheo and Draco were priority one, while healing was two, with the Dragonstone forgotten for a moment. Golden light flowing from his hand, Grohiik healed the cut in his arm, it would scar and be sore for a while, but he would recover. As would his leather cloak, a sort of armor that was well suited for many environments. Leaking back into his memory was the Dragonstone; which was tied to the back of the single Draugr in the room. A small, serrated knife came out from its pouch on his thigh, and cut through the bindings of the Dragonstone.

Heaving the stone into the pack on his back, Grohiik began on his hike back to Riverwood for supplies, then onto Whiterun. Little did he know his journey was only just beginning.

_A/N: Sorry for the wait, I have no good reason, I'm just slow at this._


End file.
